Friday, September 2, 2011


I picture a prehistoric human, ostracized by his tribe and left to wander the old world alone.

After some years he comes across a river, and sees a huge fish in the water. He throws himself in and catches it, and carries it to the shore. He sets the fish on a rock and sits beside it.

"You will be my friend," he says, beaming. He sings the fish songs he has made up, songs about birds, about stars, about the family he misses so much. The fish dies.

The lonely wanderer knows nothing about fish.

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